When they read their “Proclamation”
There was silence, scattered laughter.
It was as if the town folk knew
those boys were bound for the hereafter.
For Seven Hundred years
The Irish nation wore her chains
and, although they chaffed at times,
her second nature they became.
Not comfortable exactly, but
the folk knew nothing better.
Unlikely to be changed, they thought,
rebellions cannot change the Weather.
Imperial might fell hard that week
on both the bold and the indifferent:
The City center left in flames,
Prisoners marched off to internment.
Then the executions followed,
one by one the brothers fell.
With every dawn their ranks grew thin,
but our opinions changed as well.
In the hearts of the indifferent
Love of country grew more dear:
Pride and a sense of Nationhood
and a new changed Atmosphere.
Nuair a léigh siad a n "Forógra"
Bhí tost, gáire scaipthe anseo agus ansiúd.
Bhí sé mar dá mbeadh a fhios na tíre bhaile
na buachaillí bhí go luath do na dhiaidh seo.
Do Seacht Céad bliain
Náisiún na hÉireann a chaith slabhraí
agus, cé go chaffed siad ag amanna,
a nádúr an dara tháinig siad.
Nach compordach go díreach, ach
na tíre a fhios ag aon rud níos fearr.
Dócha a athrú, shíl siad,
Ní féidir rebellions athrú ar an Aimsir.
D'fhéadfadh thit Imperial crua tseachtain
ar an dá an gcló trom agus tá an indifferent:
An t-ionad Cathrach fágtha sa lasracha,
Príosúnaigh marched as a imtheorannú.
Ansin, ina dhiaidh sin chun báis,
ceann ar cheann thit na deartháireacha.
Le breacadh an lae gach fhás a gcuid céimeanna tanaí,
ach d'athraigh ár dtuairimí chomh maith.
I gcroí an indifferent
Grá tíre fhás daor níos mó:
Bród agus tuiscint ar na náisiúntachta
agus Atmaisféar nua athrú.
Wow, you've even got the Gaelic translation (not that I can read it mind you). Another great poem dedicated to the heroes who refused to bow to tyranny. Well done John!